


the beginning of the end

by slappybappy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Touch Trio | Bad Friend Trio, Love Triangle, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-03-17 04:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18958132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slappybappy/pseuds/slappybappy
Summary: Ivan wishes he could say he has a normal life. He wishes he could say he still lives with his two sisters in a small cottage, leaving at 7 and getting back at 4 from his job.But he can’t.Because now, it’s the apocalypse. And, at the moment? It doesn’t seem like anything will be normal ever again.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [that one rusame and fruk addicted friend. you know who you are](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=that+one+rusame+and+fruk+addicted+friend.+you+know+who+you+are).



> hey hey! my russian isn’t the best so feel free to correct me if i got anything wrong! i’m open to constructive criticism and am constantly trying to improve my writing, so yeah!

_ Odin. Chetyre. Desyat. Tri. _

Ivan punched the numbers into the small keypad, humming to himself as the large, metal doors slid open with a metallic groan. He took a step closer to the gate and furrowed his eyebrows as he walked inside, rubbing his index finger along the rusty metal and holding up his finger to himself to inspect the few specs of paint that flew off. He makes a mental note to tell Matthew about repainting it.

He continued to walk along the path dug through the towering piles of scrap metal, his metal-tipped boots thudding along the dirt and occasionally kicking a small piece of tin or something similar out of the way. He picked up his pace when he sees the familiar, looming shape of  _ ‘Baza nomer sem'desyat pyat _ ’, or  _ ‘Base number seventy-five’ _ , as they told him to say when talking in English. 

Ivan didn’t, and still doesn’t like talking in English. He’d become pretty good at it, sure, but he can still occasionally hear snickers and murmurs behind him when he gets something wrong. Well, used to. When there was still people to judge him about it. 

He picked a piece of sharp tin that had poked a small hole on his coat off as he arrived at the building. Who thought it was a good idea to put their base in a scrap yard? Well, they all agreed on it, and it was pretty well hidden, being the only polluted area in a large city area, so it was avoided by all the citizens. Citizens in large quotation marks, since most of them could hardly be considered human anymore. Still, it was a real nuisance.

He pushed open the door, the glow of a lamp reflecting outside. He stepped in, closing the door behind him, and shivered in satisfaction as the warm air of the building reached him. 

“Hey, dude!”

He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, and watches as Alfred practically ran down the stairs, with his usual wide grin. 

“Privet.” Is all he murmured as he walked into the next room, the shorter man following behind him. He could practically feel the annoyance radiating off him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know why Alfred was so infatuated with getting his attention, but he had better things to do than find out. 

When he entered the kitchen, Arthur and Francis were bent over a map, arguing loudly about something. He couldn’t hear what it was, because everytime one went to say something about it, the other raised their voice and shouted something over the top of them. Matthew was sitting between them, his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise. He gave Matthew a curt nod as he slid into the chair next to him, Alfred sitting down on the chair on his other side. 

As usual, Wang Yao is nowhere to be seen. He never showed up to their meetings anymore. Ivan does not question why. He also didn’t want to know why. 

He took in a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, the sounds of Francis and Arthur’s quarrel, Alfred’s seemingly never ending attempts to talk to him, and Matthew’s almost unheard murmurs of him asking everyone to be quiet.

He sighed.

It was gonna be a long day.

  
  
  



	2. Один

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo, monster time

_ And I was like, baby, baby, baby, yeeaaahh- _

 

Ivan abruptly switched off the radio. He could already hear the beginning of Alfred’s whine from the backseat. “Ivaaan! Put it back on! I like that song!”

He didn’t turn it back on, contrary to Alfred’s command. Instead he just muttered, “I already have had to be stuck in this car with you for hours. I do not need trashy songs playing at the same time.”

 

“Come onnnn! It’s boring without music!”

 

Ivan didn’t budge. “No. Make yourself useful and get out the map and make sure I’m going the right way.”

 

The blonde man groaned and rifled through a small pile of papers sitting near him, pulling out a crumpled piece and flattening it out. “Alright. From the base to the warehouse. Warehouse, warehouse, warehouse…” Alfred trailed off, his eyes racing across the map and his finger tracing the roads. 

 

“Aha!” He exclaimed, making Ivan jump slightly. While Ivan glared at him through the rear view mirror, Alfred was staring out the window, trying to recognise street names, and he’d found one. “Alright, sharp left turn up here.” Ivan nodded, turning. 

“And then another left, then a right.” 

Another nod. Another two turns.

“And we’re here!” 

 

Ivan pulled up outside a large, rusted building with busted windows and a broken door, vines and ferns seeming to burst out of.. well, everywhere. “This is it?” He asked, just to be safe. 

“Yep!” Alfred confirmed, rolling down his dirty window so that he could see it better. “Huh. Not much to look at, is it?” 

 

“No. But nothing is anymore.” Ivan patted his coat pocket to make sure he had his pocket knife and torch, then got out of the car, closing the door as quietly as he could to try not to attract any of the…  _ things  _ with the noise. He walked around the back of the car, opened the boot, and grabbed out his shotgun. He ran his hand over the handle and barrel of the gun before grabbing Alfred’s own gun, and passing it to him.

 

Hewalked cautiously up to the door, which was gripping onto its hinges for dear life, though it was already broken through the middle. He turned around and nodded to Alfred, who nodded back, before entering the warehouse.

 

Ivan was immediately met with the smell of rotting flesh, and his eyes flashed to a trail of blood leading further back into the dark building, like something had been dragged through. He pulled out his torch, shining it over the room, but found none of the creatures, so he continued, kicking a dirty, plastic orange chair out of the way. 

 

Alfred walked behind him, sticking close to him. His hands were shaking, barely managing to keep grip on his handgun. He’d faced a lot of these..  _ things  _ before, but he never got used to it.

 

Eventually, they managed to snake their way near the back of the large building, sometimes having to break the straight line they shuffled in to avoid something in the way. There were tables everywhere, thrown around randomly, and chairs similar to the orange one they found earlier scattered amongst them. Alfred wondered what this building was used for - there was nothing to symbolise it was once a factory or something like that, but that kinda made sense, since the building had probably already been pillaged long before they were here.

 

Alfred was snapped out of his thoughts as something shifted nearby. Ivan’s glance immediately went to the sound, searching for its source. Eventually, it appeared, and the sight, though not an unusual one, made Alfred’s face screw up in disgust.

 

Shuffling towards them, a creature that could only be described as horrible appeared. It was obviously once a human, still vaguely resembling one, but much more grotesque. It had long, thin, arms that were unproportionate to the rest of it’s body. Those aforementioned arms were a disgusting pale green-ish yellow colour, covered in marks, some alarmingly purple and similar to very nasty bruises, while the others were more of little welts, starting off red at where they met the skin but transferring to a grim black colour at the top, with a small hole, in which a brown pus was steadily leaking out of. It’s legs were short and stumpy, resulting in its arms dragging along the ground, sharp, blackened nails scraping along at the concrete floor. The torso was.. in bad shape, to say the least. It was so skinny that the ribs stuck out, the outline of its skeleton clear and visible, the shambled remains of skin the only thing holding it together. It’s face was destroyed, covered in deep, slashing cuts, the only visible features being wide eyes with bags underneath them, of which the pupil was lemon yellow and the rest of the eye was black. The mouth was visible, too, though it was badly scratched so it was hard to see very well.

 

Actually, the whole thing was very hard to see well, since Ivan shot it as soon as it started walking.

 

It fell back against the ground, hitting the concrete with a hard and solid thump sound, dark red blood starting to pool beneath it.

But as soon as that happened, several more sounds of shuffling creatures could be heard from the darkness. 

 

“ _ Der’mo _ .” Ivan mumbled, hurriedly turning and gesturing for Alfred to follow him back out of the building. Alfred did so immediately, happy to be getting out of the horror-invested building. He thought he could cry when he stepped back into the dim sunlight, spotting Ivan’s car and making a bee-line straight for it.

 

And, well, yeah, maybe he did cry a little bit, because holy shit, it was still so hard for him to believe that this was the world now. That old warehouse could’ve become a safe place, been done up, all that kind of stuff. But it was infested, and there was no hope. The creatures were easy enough to take down, but in mobs, they were much more dangerous.

 

He felt like he could cry again when they pulled up to the junkyard, the towering piles of scrap metal and garbage he now considered home looming overhead.

 

Home? He was kidding himself. This wasn’t home.

 

Regardless, it was a safe enough place, so he just followed Ivan inside the gates.

 

He sighed. was going to need a cup of coffee when they got to the kitchen.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven’t updated this in a long time oops

**Author's Note:**

> probably will continue this. maybe. possibly. if you read this and enjoyed it let me know and i’ll keep writing it!


End file.
